


The Festive Spirit

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-07
Updated: 2009-01-07
Packaged: 2019-01-23 13:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12508948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: [Fic Exchange '08] With slightly misguided holiday inspiration, Lily examines her past and future with James.





	The Festive Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Merry Christmas, se_levanto!

.

"They'll break the door down if I don't go now," he murmured, though his mouth twisted wistfully and his hands lingered on her as the doorbell rang once more.

"Let them try to take you," she teased, wrapping her arms playfully around his shoulders and pulling his body tight against hers.

" _LILY EVANS: IF YOU DO NOT RELEASE PRONGS FOR HIS PLANNED AND APPROVED STAG PARTY WITHIN THIRTY SECONDS, THE STRIPPER WILL BE PERFORMING AND MAYHEM WILL ENSUE IN YOUR LIVING ROOM INSTEAD OF THE PREARRANGED LOCATION._ "

"Stripper?" she gasped, horrified. "I approved of _no_ stripper, James."

"They're bluffing," he said, though a slight crease appeared in his forehead and he glanced toward the door for the first time.

"James," she said, struggling to maintain a shaky grasp on her fury, " _no strippers_."

He smirked at her expression and reached out to hold her steady, his eyes intent on hers. "The only woman I want to see taking her clothes off is you."

A delighted yet embarrassed blush rose across her cheekbones and she had to fight a smile. "If you stick around..."

He groaned, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers, and she could feel the anxiety radiating from him, the distress that mirrored her own about putting distance between them, and she instantly felt guilty for trying to make him choose.

"You know I trust you, James," she amended, beginning to disentangle herself from their cozy embrace on the sofa. "It's that hooligan out there that I don't trust."

"I heard that," Sirius Black said reproachfully as she opened the door.

"You were supposed to," she replied, returning his look with her hands on her hips. " _No strippers_ , Sirius. And he can't be hung over tomorrow; we have last minute wedding preparations and dinner with my sister."

Sirius carelessly waved her protests away with his hand and his tone was cheerful. "Stag parties have no rules, Lily."

Remus and Peter smiled sheepishly from the hallway behind Sirius, both of their expressions guardedly apologetic.

"I'll behave," James promised, but that was all she got of a goodbye as his friends grabbed him and pulled him through the doorway, leaving her staring after them, their joy emanating loudly all the way down the street until they disappeared around the corner.

She stood there, shivering, barefoot, her arms crisscrossed across her chest, until she was quite certain she couldn't hear their voices anymore. She took a moment after she went back inside, leaning against the back of the front door, to survey her surroundings. The flat seemed oddly empty without James, and eerily quiet.

He wouldn't be coming home tonight; Sirius had informed her yesterday that they planned to infuse her fiancé's body with enough alcohol to prevent him from ever finding his way back to her. Though some owls still had to be redirected from the flat he technically still shared with Sirius, she couldn't remember the last time she'd slept alone.

Slightly wistful, for she'd had no wild night of her own, just a prim and proper luncheon that Petunia had planned, she began setting the living room to rights from the damage the Marauder whirlwind had left. She sank down onto the couch, grabbing the coffee table books and organizing them into a neat pile, and then the light from the lamp struck the diamond in her ring and she froze, biting at her bottom lip as she studied it, remembering.

~

The theme of the day had been Things We Don't Normally Do, in honor of the Leap Year. February 29th, according to James, was better than April Fool's Day. They had gone out for breakfast, she had paid, and then they had split up for the afternoon, the longest separation they'd had since their relationship had become as serious as it now was.

She had gone to dinner with some girl friends she hadn't seen in a while. She had had too many glasses of wine, which she never allowed herself to do. She had worn a borrowed dress that showed more skin than she'd thought she'd possessed and she had spent more time doing her hair and makeup than she ever had before. She had even worn heels.

She hadn't been drunk when she got home, but she had been at one point and it struck her, oddly, that she had barely thought about James since she'd kissed him goodbye that morning. She had had fun, not that she didn't have fun with James, but it was different being out with your boyfriend than it was with your girlfriends. She had given her phone number to a guy named Blake at the bar, but even as she had been scribbling the digits onto the napkin, she hadn't been sure why she was doing it, since she knew she didn't want him to call her. She had taken the theme to a level James couldn't have foreseen and she had been conflicted, as she fumbled with the key to her flat, over whether she should feel guilty or not. After all, if James had been out that night, giving out his own phone number, or if he had known that she had done so, the cheerful undertone to their bond might have been tested.

She had stumbled over to the light switch, remembering that James was the one who always remembered to leave one on if they were going to be out late, and it had taken her eyes a moment to adjust in the hallway. Directly at her feet had sat an index card, beyond which lay a clear path of scattered lily of the valley flowers. She had tilted her head, confused, and paused to wonder why those flowers always looked like they were crying.

"James?" she had called uncertainly, her voice echoing in the quiet apartment.

There had been no response. She had leaned down, teetering a little in her heels, and picked up the index card, a mixture of emotions bubbling up within her.

_I don't want you to ever miss out on doing what you want to do. Happy Leap Year._

She had smiled, realizing now that, of course, even though it had been in disguise, the day had been yet another one of her boyfriend's romantic designs. She had kicked off her heels and padded down the hallway barefoot on the front of her feet, trying to make as little noise as possible as she followed the beckoning of the flowers. The next index card lay at the foot of the stairs.

_The day of our first kiss, scientists reported that in the precise same location on the opposite side of the globe, an earthquake was changing the face of the world._

She had remembered the feel of the first time his lips grazed hers, the hesitation, the anxiety, and the possibility. She had stood there for a moment, feeling like time had somehow slipped away from her since that day in his arms, and then had scurried up the stairs, desperate to feel another earthquake again. On the landing had been the third card.

_I'm well aware that, physically speaking, I could live without you. I just wouldn't have any motivation to do so, you know?_

And she had known. She had known far too well what he meant.

_I have no regrets. Every decision I ever made brought me here, to this point in my life, to you._

There had been eight cards in all. Eight, she thought, for every year of knowing him. The last one hung from the doorknob to her bedroom.

_I love you. I more-than-love you. I expect to more-than-love you for the rest of my life, no matter what happens. Now open the door. I've more-than-missed you._

She had practically bolted through the door, where he waited on one knee, a box in his hand, and had jumped into his arms, knocking them both to the ground.

"Lily," he had complained, holding her away as she tried to kiss him, "will you at least wait one second?"

"No," she had said, but she had backed off, sitting cross-legged in front of him, her eyes adoring, as he took her hand and knelt once more.

"Lily Evans, will you marry me?" he had asked, and he hadn't been able to prevent a smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth even as she nodded desperately, her throat closing up and her eyes spilling over.

"Good," he had said, and enveloped her in his arms, "because I wasn't going to ask again until the next Leap Year. Although I hope you realize that we may be permanently giving February a twenty-ninth day Leap, if this is how you're going to dress."

"Oh, do you have to make a joke out of everything?" she demanded, even as tears fell down her cheeks and she crawled into his arms, planting her lips against his.

"Yes," she had answered, in response to her own question. "You do. And I love you so much."

The ring had fit perfectly and she hadn't been able to take her eyes off it for the rest of the night, the day spent away from her fiancé now a distant memory.

~

She smiled now, remembering how a few days later, she had come out of the bathroom in a towel, her long hair dripping onto the floor, and he had been waiting for her, a piece of paper in his hand with a phone number written on it, his eyebrows raised.

"Blake would like you to call him?" he had said, posing it as a question.

"Oh," she had said, stalling even as an incriminating blush swept up her neck to her face. "You can just throw that out."

They had stared at each other for a moment, and then he had shrugged, accepting, and the subject was never broached again, but she had never complained about not having a true bachelorette party.

She ran her fingers over the ring gently, considering, and then realized that the same blind trust he had placed in her, she would now place in him. She switched off the lamp, locked up the front door, and headed up the stairs, no worries on her mind anymore about what her fiancé was up to on his last few nights as a bachelor. It was odd to fall asleep without him next to her, but she comforted herself in the knowledge that it would hopefully never happen again.

Just before dawn, she awakened to his arm slipping into its familiar place across her waist, his larger form engulfing her as he pulled the top sheet tighter around their embraced bodies.

"James," she murmured, still half-asleep, "what are you doing here?"

"Like I could fall asleep without you," he replied, and she could smell the alcohol even before he hiccupped in her ear.

"So romantic," she said, as she turned to face him.

"That reminds me," he exclaimed, and he reached drunkenly under the blankets, shifting through his pockets before he triumphantly unearthed his prize. "Look what I found!"

She squinted in the dim light. "What is it?"

"Mistletoe," he said proudly, and he held it up a few inches above their faces, comically puckering his lips.

"James," she protested, "it's July."

"It's Christmas," he said stubbornly. "It's July 25th."

They stared at each other and then she chuckled.

"I guess that means I have to kiss you, then," she said teasingly, resting a hand on his cheek and smiling when he turned to kiss her palm.

"I think that's the rule," he said innocently. "I mean, that's just what I've heard."

"Well, just because it's the rule," she replied, and obligingly pressed her lips to his, smiling against him, her happiness bubbling over until he smiled, too.

"Christmas is my favorite holiday."

**I hope you liked it!!!**


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